Complications
by Kyra4
Summary: The complications in Jane's life are spinning out of control; multiplying at such a rate that she can barely make sense of them all. There are so many that she can't even catalogue them; when she tries to tally them up, her head spins. And they all have one thing in common; they can all be traced back to the same point of origin. Princess Lavinia's birthday ball. And THAT DRESS.


_A/N: Another one for the story game/train/tree. I have been out of town and "off the grid" for several days, but will be catching up with my reviewing soon, I promise!_

* * *

The complications in Jane's life are spinning out of control; multiplying at such a fast and furious rate that she can barely make sense of them all.

There are so many that she can't even catalogue them; when she tries to tally them up, her head spins.

And they all have one thing in common; every single one of them can be traced back to the same point of origin.

Princess Lavinia's birthday ball.

And _that dress_.

The queen's exquisite green ballgown… ironic that something so beautiful, so exquisitely, _ethereally_ lovely, has become, she suspects, the very bane of her existence.

Because everything changed after that night. Her life hasn't been the same since.

And generally speaking, she had _liked_ her life _the way it was_ , thank you very much!

Now, there are all sorts of odd occurrences and uncomfortable emotions that she has to cope with… many (though not all) centering around her childhood rival, fellow squire, training partner, and future comrade-in-arms, Gunther Breech.

Gunther. A thorn in her side since… well, on most days it feels like since forever. But, ordinarily a _predictable_ thorn in her side, at least. She knows what to _expect_ from Gunther… or at any rate, she _did_ , until quite recently. And so she'd known how to _deal_ with Gunther, had had it nearly down to a science. It had been a long time since he'd truly, genuinely managed to get under her skin. In fact, it had seemed as if they might even have been working their way toward achieving a state of true partnership, as Sirs Theodore and Ivon had been encouraging them to do for years.

Their banter had been less barbed of late; more… well… _friendly_. Borderline good-natured. She'd found herself, for the first time, able to imagine the possibility of them actually working together successfully for the good of the realm at some future point. If things had kept on as they were going.

But now…

Now there's this whole _new_ wrench thrown in the works! Gunther's behavior has been completely out of character since that night, and not even the least little _bit_ predictable.

He had, for whatever reason, been thrown off-kilter by the sight of her in that dress (and she knew, damn it, she _knew_ it was a mistake to capitulate and wear that thing, but God, it was so gorgeous and just by the way, how does one diplomatically say 'no' to a _queen!?_ Answer: _one doesn't_.)

And _she_ in turn has been thrown off-kilter by just about everything he's said and done _since!_

The mute, wild-eyed staring of that night.

His abysmal performance while sparring the next morning; just when she'd _really needed_ a good fight in order to settle herself, he had proved completely unequal to the challenge.

 _Unpredictable_.

His voice, barely audible, so quiet and… _mumbly_ … that she had had to ask him to repeat himself; "I said, Jane Turnkey, perhaps you are the better swordsman."

 _Unpredictable_.

Hurling compliments at her the same way others would hurl insults ( _after_ he'd laid her out flat on the ground, of course) – "Your dress was stunning. You looked lovely. I would venture to say you were the most radiant squire in attendance."

 _Acutely unpredictable_.

Nor had the deeply perturbing unpredictability stopped with _that_ … memorable… day, either. The very next afternoon, there he'd been, utterly failing at his archery practice, shooting his arrows just completely wild, performing so badly that she'd almost wondered if it was some kind of inexplicable _joke_ … but he'd clearly been upset about it, hell, he'd looked nearly ready to pull his own _hair_ out – she still winces at the memory. So, not a joke then, no.

He had legitimately been struggling. _Gunther_ had been struggling. With _archery_.

 _Wildly unpredictable_.

After that, things had seemed to calm down, for a little while at least. Well, things with Gunther, anyhow. But there had been plenty of other… oddness… going on around the castle to keep her sufficiently wrong-footed, even with her fellow squire back to being more or less his normal beef-brained self.

The furtive, knowing smiles from Pepper, for one thing. What was up with _that?_ It was terribly frustrating because when she just came out point-blank and _asked_ Pepper what she was _grinning at_ all the time, her friend had feigned ignorance and insisted she hadn't the least idea what Jane was talking about.

Fine then, be that way. But there was more! There was the thing with _Jester's_ attire. Just when she could have used a little normalcy, a little status-quo, a little ho-hum reliability in her life, her best _human_ friend, who had worn blue and nothing _but_ blue since _literally forever_ had turned up blazing like a forest fire in a completely outlandish new ensemble of yellows and marigolds and crimsons and tangerines and… and… and every single other color known to man besides.

 _Pink!_ His new hose is _PINK!_

Honestly, how _dare_ he! She doesn't need this topsy-turvy ridiculousness in her life right now! He is JESTER. Jester wears BLUE. Get it RIGHT!

And then, around the same time that Jester had begun to regularly roam the castle grounds _without his pants on_ , things had cycled right back around again, to Gunther.

Gunther sitting alone – (which was not, by itself, unusual, but just wait – ) in a shady corner of the courtyard, completely absorbed in a thick leather-bound book, so utterly engrossed in what he was reading that he hadn't even noticed her until she was right on top of him, literally peering over his shoulder as she'd asked out of simple curiosity – he was, after all, not usually much given to reading as far as she'd ever seem – "what book is that, Gunther?"

He'd slammed it shut with such force that she'd startled back – and _he'd_ leapt to his feet like a scalded cat, face going an instant, blazing, _alarming_ shade of red – she was not sure she'd ever seen him blush before. _Ever_. He'd opened his mouth as if to say something… only to snap it shut again, whip his head back and forth in a single, nearly _wild_ gesture of negation, and then he'd turned tail and fled… yes, actually _fled_ from her. She was positive, as he literally sprinted out of the courtyard, that that was the proper term for it.

 _Dizzyingly unpredictable_.

And then… then… yesterday… he'd actually come to her room, and… and asked to _borrow the dress_. He'd started to stammer out an explanation involving the princess, but she'd held up a hand to silence him and simply gathered it up and bundled it into his arms… pushing him, at the same time, gently but firmly out of the door.

That _particular_ interlude had been so _COMPLETELY AND LUDICROUSLY UNPREDICTABLE_ that she _DOES NOT EVEN WANT TO KNOW_.

Nor does she ever want to see that dress again, truth be told. Let him _burn_ it, please, let him _BURN_ the damn thing and put an end to it. She'd had just a moment of weakness after watching him at his archery – watching him _fail appallingly_ at his archery – where she'd actually considered wearing it again at some point just as a sort of experiment, to see what other… unpredictability… it might be able to effect. But no. No thank you. She's reached her quota, she's had her fill, she can't _take_ anymore. No more.

It's caused enough trouble, by God.

* * *

Only, apparently, it hasn't.

Apparently, more grief is yet to come.

Oh, _much_ more.

* * *

She knows, the second she sees the light in her mother's eyes, she just _knows_ – something else is coming, and it won't be, it _can't_ be, any good.

Adeline is positively _vibrating_ with excitement; she is giddy with it. Jane has never seen her mother in this state before, but she intuits immediately that it somehow involves both herself and…

 _That dress_.

Every single current complication in her _life_ stems from that dress, after all.

She actually spins on her heel and starts to hurry away; much like Gunther's request to borrow the gown (which had seemed wrenched out of him with deep reluctance, actually) this is something about which she simply prefers not to know.

 _I cannot deal with this right now, whatever it is I cannot, please oh please do not let her have seen me_ –

But the Lady in Waiting does not miss much, and of _course_ she has seen her.

" _Jane!_ "

Suppressing a groan, her steps slowed by creeping dread, she turns around and goes to meet her mother.

And what she hears surpasses any worst-case scenario she could possibly have concocted. She listens in pure, cold horror as her mother imparts to her, with enthusiasm bordering on the manic, that a neighboring monarch has just relayed plans to pay King Caradoc and his court a visit, in little more than a month's time.

That said monarch will be bringing with him a small but dignified retinue of his nobility.

That said _nobility_ includes a highborn couple with a son only three years older than Jane – "just think, someone of your own class and social standing, an opportunity that simply does not exist in our small circle here! And I have been given to believe that he would even be… tolerant… about the whole –" Adeline waves her hand airily, dismissively – " _knight_ thing. He is intrigued by it rather than put off, just imagine!"

Jane stands rooted to the spot, barely breathing, mind reeling, as her mother further informs her that _obviously_ there will be another ball to welcome such esteemed guests.

"And of course," Adeline pronounces, casting a shrewd eye over her daughter's stunned, speechless person, "you simply _must_ wear that gown again, Jane. It is absolutely _glorious_ on you."

* * *

 _A/N: Inspired partly by poshkat's reference to Gunther's "ignoble bloodline", it occurred to me that despite his father's wealth and despite even the fact that he stands to be knighted in the somewhat near future, Jane's parents (well, her mother anyway) would probably_ not _consider him a suitable match for her. So how will it shake things up_ – _how will GUNTHER, specifically, react (as well as Jane, but honest to God I'm more interested in Gunther)_ – _to the introduction of a new suitor, someone whose entire purpose for being present at the castle IS to court Jane? Oh God someone please take the ball and run with it (no pun intended, hah!) I'm dying to see! :)_


End file.
